


Life Happens

by Aicnerys



Series: AU shenanigans [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Depression, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Melkor's daddy issues, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22317958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aicnerys/pseuds/Aicnerys
Summary: Grades, expectations, the future... It can be a bit much.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: AU shenanigans [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600951
Kudos: 20





	Life Happens

It was about nine or so in the evening, and Mairon was preemptively ready to sleep, even if wasn’t going to yet. So far, his evening had been pretty relaxing.

As far as homework went, tonight isn’t too bad for Mairon. He’s certainly had worse. SInce there was a test in Calculus, his normal math homework was out. Although he doesn’t think he’ll be doing very well, he is reasonably certain that he’ll pass. He had a few moments where he’d had to skip a problem and come back later, and the related rates problem was a doozy, to say the least.

But, all in all, though he may not make an A+, he was almost positive he wouldn’t make a forty-something.

And then there was Melkor. 

Melkor was smart, he wasn’t an idiot or anything, he just wasn’t good with Calculus. He had failed around half of all the tests they’d taken. Not serious ‘got a twenty-nine’ sorts of fails, though there definitely were folks who were pulling those sorts of grades, but more of the ‘almost passed’ sorts of fails. If it weren’t for the group quizzes, however, Melkor would probably be failing.

But it really, really wasn’t that Melkor was stupid, which is something that Melkor loudly and vocally disagrees with, despite the fact that Melkor never studies and makes the same grades as people who do study (like Mairon).

So it isn’t that Melkor is stupid.

Mairon is sprawled in bed, waiting for the sweater he just got off the needles to finish drying (not that it’ll be dry soon) and contemplating what to knit next.

Then he sees that Melkor has texted him, asking to call.

Melkor never asks to call him, which worries Mairon.

Mairon calls him, and he picks up immediately.

“I fucking can’t Mairon, okay, I can’t fucking even.” Melkor says, and it’s clear that he’s been crying and still is.

“What’s up? You sound upset.”

Massive understatement on Mairon’s part, but hey, gotta start somewhere.

“My baba heard that I had a test, and, and, oh god…”

“What did your dad say?’

“He just… he didn’t really say anything just… he’s not happy with my grades.”

Melkor takes a deep, shaking breath, chokes on a sob.

He starts to say something, but can’t because he’s crying.

“Hey, Melkor, I’m not going to say that it’s going to be okay, because you ain’t fucking ‘okay’ right now, but I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks.” Melkor says. “I kind of need that right now.”

Melkor sighs, defeated and world-weary. The kind of sigh that media attributes to world weary adults working high-stress jobs.

Mairon wonders if Melkor would drink, if he is. Melkor has admitted to being the type to self medicate, once. It was a throwaway comment, but before it, they had been casual friends, and after they were close friends.

“He says that if I can’t get my grades up, I’m just going to end up working some burger-flipping minimum wage job for the rest of my life die homeless and alone having achieved nothing and now I think I should just quit while I’m ahead because this is it, this is where I’ve fucking peaked Mairon, here, now, at the ripe old age of seventeen. This is my fucking peak.”

Melkor laughs, the kind of laugh that’s a sob in a Greek mask, the kind of laugh that’s just a defense mechanism against existential horror.

“No, it isn’t your peak.” Mairon replies. “You’re not doing well in a college level math course that most people drop from, so what? Most people drop, Melkor. Yeah, your grades aren’t great, but you know that math is weak spot for you.”

“I know that but, like, fuck, I can’t tell my father that, he’ll just get mad.” Melkor says. “I’m supposed to be better than this because look at my brother! He’s taking pretty much the same classes, and he’s in debate, and he makes better grades.”

“Manwe is the diamond your dad found in the cabbage patch, Melkor, you can’t compare yourself to him.”

Melkor laughed.

“I fucking wish.”

Melkor pauses.

“Hey Mairon?”

“Yeah?”

“Can come over and spend the night or something? Like, not if its too much trouble or anything, I just don’t think I can stand to be home right now.”

“Let me ask my folks.” Mairon tells him. “Hang tight.”

Mairon get up and walks to his parents’ bedroom, where they’re both relaxing in bed.

“Hey Maw, Pa, can my friend Melkor come over and spend the night? He and his old man went at it, and he says he doesn’t want to be at home right now.”

Mairon’s parents exchange looks.

“Sure.” Pa says. “We overheard a bits and pieces. Your friend alright?”

“I mean, he’s not great, but his dad just sort of has high expectations.”

Maw nods.

“Go ahead and pick up your friend, we’ll set stuff up, okay?”

Mairon nods.

“Thanks. Really.”

They nod.

Mairon heads back and picks up the phone.

“So, my folks said yes. Text me your address and I’ll come and get you. Is your dad okay with this?”

“Oh, thank god.” Melkor sighs. “I don’t think my baba cares where I go, to be honest, as long as he doesn’t have to deal with my fuckups.”

“Okay, great, wonderful, not really, I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Mm.” 

Melkor hangs up. Mairon figures that a t-shirt, pajama pants, and damp hair are acceptable for picking up a distraught friend late at night. He can dress nicer later.

As Mairon’s leaving, he pops by his parents fixing up the spare room and lets them know he’s heading out.

  
  
  


~~~

  
  


To be fair to Melkor, he’s got plenty of reasons to be a problem kid when it comes to his dad. The man hasn’t exactly been the kindest to his eldest son, although whether that is by accident, compounded by the shittiest communication known to man, or by genuine apathy, he’s given his eldest son plenty of reason to believe he is unloved.

Mairon doesn’t think Melkor means to make a scene, but when he pulls up, Melkor is standing a few good steps aways from the flung-open front door, backpack slung over one shoulder, a plastic grocery bag, probably of overnight stuff, in another.

Surprisingly though, it's not Melkor’s old man in the doorway, it’s his brother.

“Look, he’s just disappointed, Melkor.” Manwe says, exasperated. Mairon steps out of his car and goes to lean against it, in view of Manwe. Melkor’s back is to him, but Mairon can see and hear pretty much what’s going on.

“You’re being melodramatic.” Manwe continues. “I know Ba said you could go, but please, think this through.”

“I am not in the fucking mood to ‘think this through’.” Melkor says, about three whole miles past hysterical. “I can’t be here right now.”

“And this is why you need therapy.”

“That isn’t your call to make! Let me go, I don’t want to fight.”

“Fine.” Manwe spits out, then slams the door.

“Hey, Melkor!” Mairon calls.

Melkor practically runs over, chucks his stuff into the trunk, and they get in.

Mairon plugs his phone in for music, then hands it over to Melkor.

“You’ve done gone and had a night.” Mairon says. “Your brother upset?”

“It’s the usual shit from him, honestly.” Melkor says evasively, picking some black metal and cranking the volume down. Melkor’s always liked the music just loud enough to hear, whereas Mairon is a firm believer in the therapeutic value of loud music on abandoned backroad highways.

“Just ‘cause the knife is familiar don’t mean that it ain’t gonna hurt when you get stabbed. Again. In the same spot.”

“I know, god, I really do, but a part of me agrees with him? It’s not like he’s trying to be mean on purpose, he just doesn’t know any better, and I can’t talk about it.”

“He is your brother, and I know you love him. I can understand, like, why, I guess.”

“He’s family. I can’t hate my family.”

“I get it. Family is family.”

“Yeah, family is family.”

Melkor sighs, tips his head back, closes his eyes.

  
  


~~~

  
  


When they get to Mairon’s place his parents says hi to Melkor, then, in a sort of tacit agreement between them and Mairon, they let Mairon point out the spare room, the bathroom, and take Melkor to his bedroom.

They sort of sit on Mairon’s bed, which can’t really fit two people well, given that its a twin bed and all, but they fit on it anyway.

“Can you hug me?” Melkor asks quietly.

In response, Mairon hugs him, and he’s crying again.

Mairon rubs his back.

“I’m going to go take a shower now.”

“Sure, okay, you can use the shampoo and stuff that’s in there. I doubt you brought your own stuff.”

Melkor chuckled.

“Yeah, kind of forgot.”

  
  


~~~

  
  


When Melkor gets back, they end up watching some random YouTube videos, Melkor leaning against Mairon, seeming very tired.

At some point, Melkor falls asleep on top of Mairon.

Quietly, Mairon shuts everything off, realizes he can’t lift Melkor, elects to stick a blanket over him, and goes to bed.


End file.
